


Last One Standing

by AnnaofAza



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brainwashing, Harry Hart Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6235108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine smiled eagerly, clasping his hands together. “Gazelle is going to be disappointed if she misses this, so we’ve moved around some tables and the bar in the main room, and you and your valet can fight to death. Winner can go back. Loser…well, you know the drill, don’t you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last One Standing

“Looks like you’re in luck, Mr. Bond,” Valentine sneered. “We just caught your valet.”

At his side, Charlie Hesketh smirked, crossing his arms. “Knew the chav couldn’t cut it,” he jeered. “So, you’re his sponsor, huh? Did you feel sorry for offing his da, or did he go down on his knees to join?”

Harry resisted the urge to wrap his hands around Charlie’s neck and _squeeze_. He wouldn’t admit to himself that part of the reason he didn’t immediately jump into action was because of the bullet wound Valentine’s doctors so kindly stitched up for him. Half of his vision was blurred, and Harry realized that when he woke up, they’d taken his glasses, his signet ring, his jacket, his shoes, and even his tie. He had nothing to use as a weapon or a signal to alert Merlin.

“What did you do with him?” Harry asked, trying to keep panic out of his voice. How did they find Eggsy? Did Valentine somehow track him down? 

Valentine tapped his chin with a single index finger. “Well, your valet…Eggsy, right? Funny name,” he mused briefly, all while Harry was fighting to decide whether he could rush past Valentine and Charlie and out the door. There was the throbbing in his head and the _hopefully_ momentary vision blurriness; not to mention that, again, he had no weapons but his fists

“I caught him trying to sneak in,” Charlie declared triumphantly. “And the end of the world is coming in a few hours, so he failed to stop it.” He beamed at Valentine, features ugly and twisted. “We have a surprise for Kingsman. They can have you or the chav back.”

“Or?” Harry asked, already dreading this.

Valentine smiled eagerly, clasping his hands together. “Gazelle is going to be disappointed if she misses this, so we’ve moved around some tables and the bar in the main room, and you and your valet can fight to death. Winner can go back. Loser…well, you know the drill, don’t you?”  

“Eggsy won’t fight me, and I won’t harm him,” Harry said firmly. He was sure of it.

Or…would Eggsy truly fight him? Did he agree for a chance to go back home? Was he angry, still, at the foolish words Harry had thrown at him during that terrible day? How could Eggsy still be loyal to him after Harry had shattered the bond and trust Eggsy had placed in him so faithfully?

Valentine cheerfully chirped, “It doesn’t matter what you say. He’s going to fight you, and gladly.“  

So, Eggsy _was_ angry at him. Or desperate enough to go back. Harry couldn’t really begrudge him for that.

Dying was not something Harry looked forward to—he did survive a bullet, after all, and wasn’t eager to face the end again—but he knew that he could not and would not hurt Eggsy. Eggsy had promise, potential, friends, and family. Harry could count how many people he genuinely enjoyed being with on his hands, and most were from Kingsman. He had no family, except for an ailing mother and a brother travelling across the globe, uninterested in bearing the Hart name.

Harry knew what he was going to do.

“Very well,” Harry said, expression unreadable. “But let me have my things back, if you want it to be a proper fight.”

* * *

The crowd was ready for them. Charlie was sitting in the balcony with his parents, cheering, and Harry vowed that if he had the chance, he’d _end_ him for his treachery.

“Stand in the doorway,” Valentine said eagerly, rubbing his palms together. “When Gazelle calls your name, you come out, okay?”

Harry adjusted his tie for something to do with his hands. He was glad that Valentine allowed him almost everything back, but he longed for the glasses, which were, according to the madman, in a testing room. Praying that they wouldn’t somehow contact Merlin, Harry asked wryly, “Like a wrestling match?”

“Just so.” Valentine nodded. “Okay, everyone!” he called. “Placed your bets? Standing behind the designated lines? Good!” He pointed up towards the glass cubicle above, where his assistant was manning the controls. “Gazelle! Everything ready?”

“All set,” she said, voice playing from the loudspeakers. “Ready for your call.”

“Good! Now, everyone, put your hands together for a real spy showdown. Count down in ten! Nine—”

As the crowd chanted, Harry forced himself to keep standing. Despite Valentine’s doctors’ handiwork, he felt that he might collapse if he wasn’t concentrating. If this was a real fight, like Valentine wanted, it wouldn’t be a long one.

“Three! Two! ONE!”

The door on the other side of the room opened.

There stood Eggsy, in the bespoke suit Harry had commissioned for him, hair parted and hands bare. Valentine had given him no weapons, either; he probably didn’t want to risk them shooting him or the like. But how was he here? Did Merlin take him? Did he steal a plane? What had happened?

Eggsy’s chin was up, and his eyes were not as Harry remembered. Even when Eggsy postured or kept a lid tight on his outer emotions, his eyes usually told the truth of how he felt.

These eyes held nothing inside them. It took years of Kingsman training to achieve that kind of emotional shut-down. Something wasn’t right.

“Eggsy!” he shouted, mentally wincing at the twinge at his temples. “Eggsy, tell me if you’re all right!”

The young man didn’t reply. He didn’t even _move._  

“Oh, yeah,” Valentine said, and Harry looked up. The man had gone up to the room above, standing shoulder to shoulder with Gazelle. “He’s waiting for my order.”

_Order?_

Harry remembered the chips. The signal. The uncontrollable rage that festered and invaded every sense of logic and reason. Was it possible that Valentine could create a more controlled version of that?

_No._

“All right, young spy,” Valentine shouted, bringing his hand down. "Attack!“

And Eggsy _did._

Harry threw himself to the side, dodging Eggsy’s attack, then threw up his right arm to block a blow. "Eggsy! Eggsy, listen to me! You’re—” His hand shot forward to grab the young man, but Eggsy twisted out of his grip and kicked. Swearing briefly, Harry ducked, trying to knock him down, but Eggsy was faster than he’d anticipated. He moved like water and quick as lightning, and it was all Harry could do to keep away. “Eggsy! Please, you’re not yourself! I’m Harry! Don’t you remember?”

Eggsy’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly, it was as if he’d been doused in cold water. The fist raised to punch fell to his side, like a string being cut. “Harry? You’re…you’re alive? How…" 

"Valentine brought me back.” It was a cruel irony, considering the situation. Harry reached out and gently took hold of Eggsy’s shoulders. “I’m here, and I’m so very sorry for everything I made you believe. You are not some step in a redemption quest. You’re - ”

“Less talk, more fighting!” Valentine suddenly shouted, amongst the booing in the audience.  _“Attack!”_

Eggsy’s body convulsed horribly, and Harry quickly wrapped both arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. “Eggsy, listen to me. You have to fight Valentine, not me.”

“I have to—” Eggsy’s voice was guttural and strained, and he began to struggle. “My head; it hurts—"  

"You’re strong,” Harry insisted. His legs were already beginning to give away. He felt faint, but he couldn’t pass out. Not now. "You can do this. You’ve fought your entire life. Don’t stop now. Please.“

"Harry, I—I can’t—”

“I’m not giving up on you! Eggsy, _please—_ ”

“Kill me!” Eggsy gasped. “Kill me; I’ll kill _you_ if I can’t—”

Harry tightened his grip. Spots were beginning to swim across his vision. "No, I _will not_ harm you _._ Eggsy, listen to my voice. We can fight him together. We can save the world. Please. I can’t lose you.“ Eggsy struggled further, legs kicking backwards, and Harry let out a cry of pain when the heel connected to his shin. _"Please!_ Eggsy, you need to go home! I—”

 _“Kill him!”_ Valentine screamed, and Harry closed his eyes, resigning himself to his fate.

He would not hurt Eggsy. Never again.


End file.
